


A Different Kind of Vigilance

by bryoneybrynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryoneybrynn/pseuds/bryoneybrynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus needs to pay attention when he's out in public.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Vigilance

**Author's Note:**

> Another 100quills fic. Prompt: attention.
> 
> Disclaimer:: This is a work of fanfiction. Harry Potter et al belong to JK Rowling, her publishers and associated movie studios. No profit was made from this work.

A Different Kind of Vigilance

When you are Harry Potter’s son, you must pay attention. You must be ever mindful of watchful eyes, Extendable Ears, and hidden cameras. Especially when you are in public. Especially when you are the one who looks the most like him, the one most readily recognised by the press.

You must not pick your ears, your teeth, or your nose. You must not scratch your arse . You must not say anything unkind or dirty or political. If you look too grouchy, the papers will speculate that you are a celebrity’s spoilt child, expecting everything to be exactly to your liking. If you look too sad, they will say you are depressed, your father’s fame isolating you from others, interfering with your ability to make friends. If you look too happy, they will accuse you of growing up ignorant of the harsh realities of life. If you have dirt on your face, they will say you run wild, that your father can’t discipline you properly. If you have a bruise on your arm from taking a knock during a bit of Quidditch in the backyard, they will hint broadly at the possibility of abuse, questioning the post-war mental stability of the Chosen One. 

If you wear shabby clothes, they will accuse your father of recreating his own neglectful childhood. If you wear nice, new clothes, they will comment that the Potters spend money like it grows on trees. If you wear your normal clothes, they will call you boring and unfashionable. If you get a bad haircut, they put your picture on the front page and laugh at you. If you get a good haircut, they put your picture on the front page and accuse you of trying too hard. 

These are lessons that Albus has learned well. Though his parents have tried to protect him, his dad storming into the head offices of the Prophet in a towering, terrifying fury, his mum using her body as a shield between him and the cameras, Albus has still learned these lessons the hard way. So he knows, he _knows _, that outside of his house and maybe Hogwarts, he is not his own person. Whether he likes it or not, whether it is fair or not, he is public property. Pretending differently only lands him in the papers, only leads to more humiliating stories he has to pretend don’t affect him.__

__And so he knows better, _he knows better_ , than to look at Scorpius when they bump into each other in Diagon Alley. He knows better than to smile at his boyfriend. Even though they are standing several feet apart, even though their hands are nowhere near each other, it doesn’t matter, it’s written all over his face. Everything he feels for Scorpius shows in his smile. But he is so happy to see him, an unexpected gift the week before school starts. He has missed him so much. The smile is automatic, comes before thought, lights up his face before he remembers where he is, who he is. _ _

__The smile drops, but not fast enough. There has already been a flash. Scorpius’s head whips around, a scowl on his face. The photographer backs away. Things have changed since the war, but not so much that people don’t fear an angry Malfoy. But it’s too late. The picture is taken, the moment stolen from them. It belongs to the public now. Albus feels bereft, as if he has lost something precious and irreplaceable._ _

__“I guess I’ll see you at school,” he mumbles, an unspoken apology behind his words._ _

__Scorpius looks at him, pained. His voice drops to the softest whisper. Albus can barely hear him, but it doesn’t matter. The words he speaks are familiar, and Albus can read them on his lips. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Al. I don’t care who knows.”_ _

__But Albus isn’t ready yet for their relationship, his very first and the most cherished thing in his life, to be torn apart by the press. He isn’t ready for the speculation, the gossip, the intrusion into their hearts and lives. He wants to hold onto it just a little longer, this beautiful, shining thing that is theirs and no one else’s. Even if it’s just for today, just until the morning papers hit the shelves, he will hold it tight and close and fight to the death anyone who tries to take it from him._ _

__“I know,” he says._ _

__Scorpius looks at him a moment longer, gives him a sad smile, and walks away. Al watches him go, a dull ache setting up in his heart._ _

__Then he leaves too, goes to find his family, to tell his parents, to warn them of the latest scandal. He already knows what will happen._ _

__“Another one for the scrapbook,” James will say with a laugh. Lily will laugh too, though her laugh will be less comfortable, more nervous._ _

__His mum will go slightly pink and start to swear under her breath. His dad will go pale and quiet. Then, later, when everyone has moved on from the conversation, he will pull Albus aside and apologise. Albus hates this part the most. It’s not his dad’s fault, it’s not Albus’s fault, and yet they will both feel guilty, each thinking they have caused the other pain._ _

__Albus tracks movement out of the corner of his eye, someone walking alongside him, separated by the passing crowd but keeping pace. He does not have to look to know it’s a reporter or a fan of his dad’s, someone who does not know him but feels entitled to have a piece of his time nonetheless._ _

__He sighs heavily and makes sure to keep his face expressionless. He is Harry Potter’s son and he must pay attention._ _


End file.
